


Sphere and Spren

by chirichiri



Category: Cosmere - Brandon Sanderson, SANDERSON Brandon - Works, Stormlight Archive - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: Post-Book 03: Oathbringer, cosmere gift exchange, for swordkallya!, so spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-26 18:22:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21378505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chirichiri/pseuds/chirichiri
Summary: It's not easy being the Prime Aqasix . . .Lift takes Gawx on a thieving adventure in the heart of Urithiru--to face the terrifying Jasnah Kholin herself!
Relationships: Gawx & Lift (Stormlight Archive)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 26





	Sphere and Spren

Gawx woke up to a sharp poke to his forehead. He grimaced, squeezing open an eye—and saw a dark figure looming over him. With a yelp he scrambled backward, but slammed against the headboard of his bed, and the dark figure sprang after him.

“Help!” he yelled. “Assassin in—” The figure’s hand clapped over his mouth and they shoved their face right up to his.

“Hush, idiot,” they hissed at him, and Gawx paused. “You’ll blow my cover!”

He pulled the hand off his mouth. “Lift, what are you doing here?”

She flashed a smile, teeth bright in the dim room. “Prime’s public, ain’t he? I’m just appli-catting my state-given rights as a citizen of Azimir!”

“You’re Reshi,” he reminded her. “And your citizenship status was revoked yesterday. Remember how you set fire to my throne? Again? How’d you escape the detention room, anyway?”

“Can’t revoke what they don’t got!” Lift crowed, triumphantly thrusting a fistful of papers in the air.

“Don’t tell me you—” Gawx sighed. “Of course you stole the paperwork. Lift, why are you here?”

She stashed her citizen documentation in her vest. She beamed. “We’re going _thieving_, Gawx. You, me, and the maybe-Voidbringer.” She thrusted a thumb over her shoulder, presumably at her spren.

“Only ‘maybe’ now, huh,” Gawx said, amused. Then he frowned. “I’m not a thief anymore, Lift. The Prime can’t just—”

Her eyes sparkled mischievously. “The Prime can and the Prime _will_, after he knows what I found.”

Typically, there were two voices in Gawx’s head. One berated him for not holding his fork properly at special dinners, and the other sounded suspiciously like his uncle. Right then, his uncle’s voice was whispering, _Check it out!_ While the smart one insisted, _Find out what happened to the visitors! What did Lift do to them? Where are your guards? This is insane! Go back to bed!_ A good idea, and yet . . . he did miss out on the arson yesterday. He deserved a bit of fun, especially after so many meetings and debates after the Battle of Thaylen Field . . .

Gawx raised his eyebrows at Lift. “The Prime is interested.”

**~ ~ ~ ~**

“I’m regretting my decision,” Gawx muttered to Lift, dangling from a balcony in the frigid night air, a drop of thousands of feet below him. “I am regretting _so much_.”

She smirked, clinging to the railing beside him. “Is that the Prime or my best friend talking?”

He blinked. Best friend? What about Wyndle? But before he could respond, Lift had scrambled back over the railing and was offering her hand to Gawx. Despite being younger and smaller than him, she was a Knight Radiant, and when he grabbed it, she managed to pull him over, grunting.

“Feed you well in the palace, huh?” she gasped, hands on her knees, once he was safely standing on the balcony.

“_You_ would know,” he told her, peering nervously into the hallway to see if the guards chasing after them were actually gone. “It’s clear?”

“As a whitespine’s rear,” Lift confirmed, brushing past him to dart into the tower.

He paused. “I . . . that’s not very clear, I’d say.” But he followed, nervously looking over his shoulder before jogging after Lift and the light of the diamond mark in her hand. He slowed once he caught up, sticking close to her. “Sure is, uh, dark in Urithiru at night, huh. So empty.” He shivered as a cold draft blew past them. “Creepy. You heard about the Unmade-thing Radiant Davar faced, right?”

“Killin’ all the tall people after they moved in, sure. What about it?”

They chatted longer, quieting and ducking carefully around corners when they came to intersections and hiding in rooms lining the tunnels when Wyndle warned Lift of approaching guards. They moved deeper into the tower, always upward, and came across fewer and fewer patrols and lights.

It certainly hadn’t been like that by the oathgate—both on Azimir’s side and Urithiru’s. Lift had snuck around using her Edgedancer powers and gotten Gawx there with a rope, then summoned her spren as a rod and transported them to Urithiru—where they were immediately confronted by a squadron of angry Alethi soldiers demanding to know who they were. Gawx had been ready to give up then and there, but Lift had smacked the leader’s knees with her Shardrod, grabbed Gawx, and somehow slid right through the soldiers, sprinting across the courtyard and into the tower, past all the markets and civilians’ homes, deeper and deeper into Urithiru until now. Now, it was just Gawx, Lift, her sphere and spren, and their soft murmuring conversation. Then that too faded away, leaving them with the smothering silence of the tower. A pool of faded white light against the dark.

Gawx resisted the urge to grab Lift’s hand. The Prime Aqasix had to be brave, to lead his people in these times. Bold, perhaps.

“Remind me where we’re going,” he whispered to Lift.

She looked at him, eyes still bright after summoning her Shardrod. “And spoil the surprise? Chull dung.”

“We’re running out of places to go,” he reminded her, looking pointedly around at the tight, coiling halls. They had to be near to the top of Urithiru.

“Then figure it out, O Might-ee Prim-ee.” She shot him a wink. “And do it soooon.”

He perked up. “So we’re close?”

But she scampered ahead, pretending not to hear him, and he scrambled after her, turning the corner—and running smack into an Alethi soldier. Gawx staggered backward with a yelp, and the soldier grabbed his arm, yanking him forward.

The soldier barked something in Alethi, shoving his sphere in Gawx’s face and making him squint against the sudden light.

“Uh,” he started, panic making his heart pounding. He doubted the soldier knew Azish.

A low hiss and small flurry of motion in the corner of his vision made him peer past the soldier, where, crouched in a dark doorway just behind the soldier, Lift made urgent hand signals at him. The soldier barked something again, giving Gawx a threatening shake, and Gawx’s gaze darted back and forth between them, mind completely blank.

_Do you pay attention at all in diplomacy lessons_, the smart voice asked him wearily.

_It’s my day off!_ he snapped back.

_You are Prime_, they told him sternly. _Act like it_.

Lift waved at him. _Keep distracting him!_ she mouthed.

“Wait—” he started, reaching for her, but she turned and darted into the darkness beyond.

The soldier whipped around, holding up the sphere, trying to find what or who Gawx was looking at, and Gawx used the moment to kick the soldier in the shin. The soldier turned back to him, unimpressed. He hadn’t even flinched. Gawx’s toe hurt.

_Even your kicks are pathetic_, Uncle Huqin reproached him. _Almost as pathetic as the rest of you. You never were cut out to be my nephew_.

Gawx’s lip curled. “Because I’m not a thief!” he yelled in the soldier’s face, making him blanch in surprise. Gawx smacked the hand clenching his nightshirt away and stepped closer to the soldier, thrusting his face in his. “I am Yanagawn the First, Prime Aqasix and King of the Azir! I am regretting almost every single past decision I have ever made in my life and I am here to thieve something with my best friend tonight! Get out of my way!”

. . . Please, recognize the contradictory statement that came out of your mouth, the smart voice said. _A not-thief is out thieving at night?_

Gawx ignored them, leveling the soldier an unwavering stare. He could tell the soldier had understood none of that. He blinked, mouth opening, then closing, then finally, a heavily-accented version of his name and title came out, said like a question.

Gawx nodded. “That’s me.” He fished around in his pocket and pulled out a royal seal, showing it to the soldier. “Would you look at that, I’m not even lying.”

The soldier peered at it closely, then shook his head in disbelief. A look of firm responsibility settled on his face, and he shooed Gawx down the tunnel, a jumble of Alethi spilling from his lips. Gawx stepped nervously away, the burst of angry daring snuffed out like a flame as the soldier herded him farther away. Did he mean to escort Gawx to someone important who could deal with him, or someone who knew Azish, at least? But Lift—

As if summoned, Lift appeared swinging a board of wood, as if torn up from a floor, a mad grin on her face as she slammed it onto the soldier’s head. The man crumbled, armor making a loud clang, and Gawx jumped back to avoid him landing on his bruised foot. The soldier’s sphere rolled to bump lightly against the wall of the tunnel, throwing dramatic shadows around them.

Gawx stared at the soldier. “Is he dead?”

Lift swung the plank of wood up to her shoulder, grinning. “‘Course not. I’m a thief, not a starvin’ _murderer_.”

Gawx eyed the wooden board. “Why not Wyndle?”

She spat. “Starvin’ spren wouldn’t do it.” She threw a dirty look at a spot on the wall, then stuck out her tongue as if Wyndle had said something back.

Gawx’s lips twitched upward. “So he _is_ a spren.”

Lift turned her dirty look to him and pointed the plank threateningly at him. “Don’t think I wouldn’t clobber you too.”

Gawx held his hands up in a careless shrug. “I’m already running on my second life thanks to you. Would you really waste it?” He walked past her with a smug smile, scooping up the fallen sphere before peering into the tunnel. Past the doorway—which was actually the gate to the fabrial-powered lift—there was only a staircase leading to a trapdoor in the ceiling. “So what was he guarding anyway?”

Lift brushed past him, plucking the sphere out of his hands. “The queen lady, duh.”

Gawx stopped short. “Queen _Jasnah Kholin_? Of _Alethkar_? She’s _here_?”

“Welcome to starvin’ Urithiru, Gawx,” Lift said over her shoulder. “All the tall people are here.” She scrambled up the stairs and cracked open the trapdoor, peeking carefully through. “Who else would we be thievin’ from?”

Gawx shook his head, starting to back away. “Lift, this is _insanity_. Stealing from the Queen of Alethkar herself? I want my body parts to remain exactly that—flesh and bones, not Soulcast into fire or smoke or—or—”

He yelped as Lift grabbed him by his shirt and dragged him up the stairs, through the trapdoor, and to the railing behind it, where they crouched close to the ground, spheres hidden in pockets. Gawx had to bite his tongue to keep a startled squeak down. He scanned the platform, open to the air, and froze when he spotted Queen Jasnah.

She was almost directly opposite of them on the platform, leaning against the railing, looking outward. Very still. No braziers, no spheres, despite it being the middle of the night. No guards or attendants either. Perhaps the soldier had been posted to keep people from disturbing her. She certainly didn’t need anyone to protect her.

Slowly, carefully, eyes still on the queen, Gawx leaned close to Lift and whispered in her ear, “What are we stealing? There’s nothing here.” His heart skipped a beat. “You’re not thinking of kidnapping _her_, are you?” After setting fire to his throne, Gawx wouldn’t put Lift past anything.

She nudged him. “Turn around.”

“But—”

“Quit _worryin’_. Only thing the starvin’ lady does is stare out _that_ way—she ain’t gonna hear us. So turn around!”

The wind was blowing fairly hard. It would probably keep their whispers from Jasnah’s ears. He obeyed, reluctantly putting his back to the queen.

He gasped, soft and quiet in the night.

Lift grinned, poking her legs through the gaps in the railing and letting them swing. “_This_ is what we’re thievin’ tonight.”

“I’ve never . . .” He trailed off. “I forgot we were on the roof,” he said instead. “Above the mountains. On top of the world.” Slowly, he tilted his head back. “The stars . . .”

“Feels like you could snatch one right here and now, huh?” Lift stretched her hand up and mimed grabbing one off the sky, holding it tight in her fist. “Pretty awesome.”

“Awesome,” Gawx echoed, looking back over the vast stretch of Roshar below. Past the dark peaks of the mountains Urithiru was nestled in, he thought he could see—

“Home,” he said quietly. “We’re so far away.”

To his surprise, Lift took his hand and squeezed it. “Just hop an oathgate and we’ll be back.”

Gawx squeezed back. “Thanks for bringing me here. The view is incredible.” He wondered if he could convince the viziers to un-revoke Lift’s citizenship status as a thank-you. But maybe she’d want pancakes or—what was it? Chouta? Chouta. Maybe they could stop by a Herdazian food cart down in Urithiru’s marketplaces before returning to the Bronze Palace. Was the soldier’s sphere enough to buy a chouta?

“And it’s _ours_,” Lift said, bringing Gawx back. “Old Tight-Butt likes to talk to Ugly-Face up here and that lady queen likes staring sometimes, but we just _thieved_ it from them. Just you and me.”

He set his arms on the top of the railing, resting his chin on his hands. “Suppose we ought to leave before the soldier wakes up.”

Lift leaned back on her hands, legs still swinging. “Nah. We’re too awesome for that.”

“You more than me,” Gawx muttered, words muffled by his hands.

She drove her elbow into his side, making him grunt. “Hey, _I_brought you back to starvin’ life, and I can do this!” She brandished her hand, Wyndle suddenly appearing as a Shardrod there. “You think an _awesome person_ like me can mess up on somethin’ like that?” She paused, and Wyndle disappeared. “All right, so _maybe_ Darkness would’ve been a better emperor—” He snorted a laugh— “but he ain’t one to let me eat his lunch. So you’re worth keeping around, Gawx. Ain’t nobody got fancy lunches like you.”

He supposed so. Still. Getting to his feet, he brushed himself off and offered his hand to Lift. “Well. I don’t know about fancy, but I do have an idea for a midnight snack.”

She sprung to her feet without his help. “Yeah?”

A shout, in Alethi.

They turned. Jasnah Kholin strode toward them, terrifying aglow with Stormlight, Shardblade in hand. She pointed it at them, another string of words that, no matter their language, sounded like a command coming from her.

Gawx seized Lift’s hand. “But first—”

Jasnah stalked closer, hand stretched out in warning.

“Run!”

They darted for the trapdoor, ignoring Jasnah’s cry of outrage, scrambled down the stairs, zipped past the confused soldier just starting to sit up, and flew through the halls, barely a step ahead of the queen of Alethkar. Hand in hand, they sprinted for their lives.

Gawx had never felt so alive. _So this is courage_. A smile curled his lips. _I could thieve that_.

And the voices in his head were quiet.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry it's not in Lift's POV ha it felt better in Gawx's
> 
> also i suppose gawx views himself as yanagawn so that's how he should be referred to in the fic but doing so would ignore the fact that gawx is a superior name and thus that's what imma call him
> 
> as a sidenote, calling jasnah queen gives me life. it's what she deserves!!


End file.
